But I Can't Be a Herald!
by RonethDragon Tiamat
Summary: A Tayledras scout, a bondbird, and a Companion... Completed
1. Wyrsa

This is one of those pops-into-your-head-at-three-in-the-morning stories. I don't know what the plotline is...I don't even know what the genre is. If someone knows what the genre is, please tell me.  
  
This is about at the Owlsight/Owlknight part of the ML timeline.  
  
And don't flame me for the lack of italics. I wrote it with italics. My computer just can't save as an HTML file. If there is an alternate way of uploading italics, someone please inform me!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
:Wingblade!:  
  
The teenage scout, who had been examining a feather from her bondbird with apparent fascination, snapped to attention. Her eyes were black and full of energy. Her hair was the same color, and long, but tied back so it wouldn't interfere with her sight. One strand wasn't tied back; it was braided with several beads and a few feathers. Soft leather boots covered her feet. Her clothes were simple: breeches, tunic, and belt, all in Tayledras style and all browns or blacks. A short sword hung at her left side, a long dagger on her right. The arrows in her quiver were fletched with gray feathers. Her bow rested, unstrung, beside her. :Yes, Sunsong?:  
  
:I need you! Now!:  
  
*Why me?* :Why?:  
  
:Wyrsa. A full pack. They're hunting something - it looks like a horse. They're headed west, directly towards your scouting area.:  
  
:What do you need me to do?:  
  
:Delay them. Nightstar and I are chasing them on foot, and I've Mindspoken Skystorm. He's bringing a few dyheli. I hope that's enough to deal with wyrsa, because there's no one else available.:  
  
:Hamper them. Got it.: As Wingblade strung her bow, she switched her Mindspeech from Sunsong to her bondbird, Kyiir. The gyrfalcon was spiraling lazily up a thermal.  
  
:Birdbrain, stop wasting time. We need to find those wyrsa.:  
  
:?:  
  
Wingblade sighed. :Snake-dogs, Kyiir. Find the snake-dogs? Fly west?:  
  
Kyiir considered, then broke off from his circling and darted westwards. Wingblade slipped into his mind.  
  
The gyrfalcon flew swiftly. He heard the wyrsa pack howling below him and dove donw through the trees. Wingstar swiftly counted the beasts. Seven of them. And what they were chasing was, indeed, a horse.  
  
Wait. No, it wasn't a horse. A normal horse would have been outrun long ago by the pack. This horse was white, with blue tack, somewhat expensive- looking...this was one of the Companions of Valdemar!  
  
Absently, Wingblade wondered where its Herald was. But that though was pushed away as she quickly revised her plan.  
  
:Kyiir, could you lead the horse? To me?:  
  
:Yes.: He swooped down, circled the Companion's head, and shot back towards Wingblade. The Companion, without slowing a bit, swerved to follow the gyrfalcon.  
  
:Safe?: queried Kyiir. :Not die?:  
  
:I hope so, Kyiir.: replied Wingstar grimly as she clambered up a tree. :I really, truly, hope so.:  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Should I continue? Should I stop asking questions? Will you review? 


	2. Battle

Let's get to the fun part quickly, shall we?  
  
I'm a little new to the world of Valdemarian fanfics, so advice? Constructive criticism? Comments?  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Wingblade sensed the wyrsa coming. She slid an arrow onto her bow, praying to the Goddess that she could pull this off.  
  
Kyiir swooped right below her. She pulled back on the bow just as the Companion thundered past. A wyrsa was right behind the mare. Wingblade aimed carefully, then let the string slide through her fingers. The arrow buried itself in the wyrsa's chest. The beast gave a piteous moan and keeled over, dead.  
  
The other six stopped instantly. An attack! They turned to the tree, growling. One of them tried to climb up to her, but couldn't manage. They sat there, snarling among themselves, watching her.  
  
Wingblade aimed another arrow. The wyrsa, expecting this, dodged it. Then Kyiir, in response to Wingblade's request, dove at on of their eyes. Startled, it reared back - straight into another arrow.  
  
*Two down, five to go. *  
  
The wyrsa were really angry. One leapt up and managed to grasp a branch below Wingblade's. The scout bit back a curse and clambered higher up.  
  
*I hope you're happy with this distraction, Sunsong. *  
  
Just then, arrows lanced out from the bushes. One of them hit the shoulder, but the other was a direct heart-stroke.  
  
The wyrsa turned to face this new attack, but were distracted when Kyiir dove at them, followed by a golden eagle and a pair of eagle-owls.  
  
Wingblade smiled. The golden eagle was Sunsong's, the eagle owls Nightstar's. Help had arrived.  
  
It came as no surprise to her when Skystorm came thundering through the bushes, riding a dyheli. Four more followed on his heels. Skystorm's bondbird, a kestrel, joined the other birds in swooping at the wyrsas' heads.  
  
Wingblade leapt down out of the tree, unsheathing her sword in one fluid motion. The other scouts did the same, leaping out from their hiding spots. Abruptly, the wyrsa found themselves cornered and outnumbered.  
  
They were no less dangerous, however. One of them leapt, snarling, at Wingblade. She rolled out of the way and stabbed upwards into empty air.  
  
*Those thing are too damn FAST!*  
  
She whirled around, blade spinning, keeping both the first wyrsa and another that made for her at bay. The dyheli were dodging and irritating a third, Skystorm occupied a fourth, and the other two dealt with the remainder.  
  
Leaving Wingblade with two.  
  
She leapt forwards, striking at the heart, then rolling to dodge the bite when the stroke missed. She heard Kyiir's enraged screech and saw the other wyrsa snapping at the gyrfalcon.  
  
Wingblade slashed forwards, backwards, intent only on keeping the beasts at bay. One of them let its guard down. Wingblade took the chance and ran it through.  
  
She had let her own guard down, though. The other wyrsa caught her leg with its claws. She fell, and couldn't get up. She saw it looming over her and closed her eyes.  
  
*This is the end, I guess. *  
  
Suddenly, the scream of an angry horse opened her eyes.  
  
The Companion was back. She reared, kicking her forelegs out angrily. Then she whirled and kicked the beast in the head. Multiple times. Wingblade gulped as the mare jumped onto the dead beast's back and proceeded to crush it into an unidentifiable pile of goop.  
  
Wingblade looked around. The others had dealt with the remainder of the pack. So Wingblade stood up, trying to ignore the pain in her leg. She bowed to the Companion.  
  
:Thank you, my lady, for saving my life.:  
  
As Wingblade raised her head, her eyes met the two sapphire pools of the Companion's. She was drawn down, entangled in a bond of loving compassion.  
  
:Yes, you are my Chosen. I am Syrai, and I Choose you, Wingblade.:  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
We all saw that coming. Of course. So that wasn't even a plot twist. Look out for plot twists! 


	3. Chosen

I don't like dogs. I got bit by one. It hurt. That's all I can think about right now. Don't expect coherence. That's beyond me.  
  
RonethDragon: You forgot the disclaimer.  
  
I don't like disclaimers.  
  
RonethDragon: Deal with it.  
  
Tiamat: Who came up with the idea of putting disclaimers at the beginning of the story, anyway? I mean, we're writing fanfiction, for goodness sakes!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Companions, Valdemar, the ideas, or anything else you might recognize. I DO, however, own anything that is NOT in her books!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Wingblade came up out of the trance with a rush. She stared, unbelieving, at the Companion - her Companion, Syrai.  
  
Sunsong entered the clearing. His clothes were much like hers, except his boots came up higher. His hazel eyes were warm and friendly. His hair was dyed dark brown, but she could see a few streaks of gold where the dye had missed. His equipment was like hers, too, except his sword was a good deal longer and heavier.  
  
:What's wrong. Wingblade?: he asked, noticing that she hadn't moved.  
  
:I've just been Chosen.: Wingblade's tone was very someone-please-wake-me- up. :I have just been Chosen a Herald of Valdemar.:  
  
:You're kidding.: The other two scouts had left. Sunsong looked at Wingblade, then the Companion, then back again. :No, you're not.:  
  
Wingblade felt Syrai in her head. :Come on, get in the saddle. We've got a long ways to ride to get back home.:  
  
:I can't just walk out of here!:  
  
Syrai cocked her head. :Whyever not?:  
  
:I'm Tayledras! A Hawkbrother! My duty, my life, is k'Rayna!:  
  
Sunsong walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. :Wingblade, we cannot undo what the fates have decreed. The Companion's Choice can't be revoked. You must go with the lasha'Kaladra. I will tell the Vale for you.:  
  
Wingblade's shoulders slumped. She didn't want to leave k'Rayna. But...now, she couldn't even think of wanting to leave Syrai. They were one, just like she and Kyiir. There was no real choice.  
  
:All right. I'm coming.: Wingblade leapt with ease onto the Companion's back. :Kyiir!: she called. :We're going for a trip.:  
  
The gyrfalcon swooped down with ease and landed on her shoulder. The Companion instantly bolted into action. The trees blurred past them as Syrai ran full out.  
  
From behind her, Wingblade heard Sunsong's farewell. :Do not worry, ashke. We will see each other again.:  
  
Wingblade closed her eyes to keep them from tearing, though from her speed or her departure she knew not. Reaching up with one hand, she took a feather from her braid. It was fairly large and yellowish-gold, with three golden beads along the quill. She held it to her heart with a sad smile, then carefully braided it back in.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
I have this thing with short, transitiony chapters. I'm bad at prolonging things. Deal with it.  
  
If I get enough reviews asking, I might lengthen the chapters. *hint hint* 


	4. News

I'm working on this story instead of the one I'm supposed to be working on because this one has much shorter chapters and a much larger audience. I'm a crowd-pleaser. What can I say?  
  
Tiamat: *proclaims loudly* There will be no more disclaimers! Anyone who has an irrational desire to see disclaimers must go back to the third chapter. And if you are that annoying, I don't know why you're reading this.  
  
RonethDragon: You're a bad, bad girl.  
  
Tiamat: *smug* I know.  
  
RonethDragon: It's not something to be proud of...  
  
Ignore them. I'm sorry for wasting your time.  
  
RonethDragon/Tiamat: Hey! *jump the author, who now must fend off two very pissed dragons*  
  
Back to the story! *hair gets singed* Hey!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Elspeth and Darkwind walked in the Companion's Field. Vree flew in circles overhead, and Gwena would dart away, then gallop towards them, always stopping just before she ran into them.  
  
Elspeth touched his shoulder. "Darkwind, there's something I think you should know."  
  
He caught her hand. "What it is, love?"  
  
"You know the Companion Syrai, right?"  
  
"She's the one you've been worried about, who's been gone for nearly two weeks?"  
  
"Well, she contacted Gwena earlier today."  
  
"That's good, right?"  
  
"She did find her Chosen."  
  
Darkwind sighed. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Syrai's Choice was...a female Hawkbrother."  
  
Darkwind stopped. "You're serious."  
  
Elspeth nodded.  
  
"How? There's never been a Tayledras Herald. Our first duty is always to our clan and our lands. No one could deal with the dual responsibilities!"  
  
"I know, ashke," said Elspeth softly. "Believe me, I know."  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Switching POVs is fun. I write short chapters. So sue me.  
  
R&R! R&R! R&R! R&R! R&R! R&R! R&R! 


	5. Raiders

Due to the insistance of several reviewers, the author will now attempt to make the chapters longer. *cheering from the crowd* Stop that! Longer is more work for me!  
  
RonethDragon: Stop complaining. No one's forcing you to do this.  
  
Tiamat: Oh yeah? And are you the author? I thought not! Now leave her alone! Can't you see she's got a lot of work to do?  
  
RonethDragon: Yeah, but it's homework, and this isn't it!  
  
Tiamat: You. Are. Annoying.  
  
Both of you, shut up while I'm writing!  
  
RonethDragon/Tiamat: Yes, Mommy.  
  
And would SOMEONE please read my other stories! I have a lot of them, and they're sitting there, just begging for reviews!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
The ride was a blur. All Wingblade could remember was green leaves on the side of the road, brown dirt before and behind, and the constant motion. Kyiir would periodically take off and fly above, or swoop back down and perch on her shoulder again.  
  
They were mostly silent. Occasionally Syrai would speak up, giving Wingblade a bit of needed information about Valdemar, usually about the language. But this was only once in a while. So Wingblade had way too much time to think about her unique position.  
  
She had thought her life had been difficult before. Now, here she was, with dual loyalties, neither one possible to break! She shuddered away from the thought of cutting loose either Kyiir, her old, faithful friend, or Syrai, who was now as much a part of her soul as her gyrfalcon. But what was she to do?  
  
When night fell, Syrai stopped. Wingblade dismounted and stretched, completely stiff. She had ridden dyheli before, of course, but Companions had much broader backs. Grumbling, she started a fire and sent Kyiir to hunt.  
  
He came back with a nice rabbit for her, having already sated his own hunger. She took it from him with wordless gratitude and began to skin it.  
  
:You're eating that?: asked Syrai in obvious disgust.  
  
:Of course. I can't exactly graze, Ms. Horse!:  
  
:I'm not a horse!:  
  
Wingblade smiled. :I know.:  
  
The next morning, the ride continued as before. Dirt and leaves, hoofbeats and silence, mark after mark.  
  
About midafternoon, they reached a crossroad. Syrai started down the left lane, but Wingblade yanked on the reins.  
  
The sounds coming from the right path. Screaming, hoofbeats, the roar of fire. This couldn't be good.  
  
:Wait, Syrai.: She switched her attention to Kyiir. :Could you do a fly- over?:  
  
The gyrfalcon swooped over in that direction, Wingblade using his eyes.  
  
Raiders!  
  
A group of about ten horsemen and twice that many on foot were chasing the townfolk. Several buildings were on fire.  
  
Wingblade rushed back into her own body. :Come on! We need to help!:  
  
The mare snorted. :We _need_ to get to Haven. Besides, there's nothing you can do here.:  
  
Wingblade put her hand to her sword. :Syrai,: she said warningly, :if you don't take me, I'll jump off and go on foot!:  
  
Syrai rolled one eye upwards. :You are very persistent, aren't you? All right.: With that, the Companion wheeled down the right path.  
  
Wingblade had thought they were going fast before. But now Syrai was going at a full Companion gallop. It was all Wingblade could do not to fall off.  
  
The houses rushed towards them at tremendous speed. Wingblade had enough time to see the bewilderment on the raiders' faces before Syrai reared, striking out at one of the men on foot. He went down and the Companion leapt on top of him. There was the audible sound of breaking bones.  
  
Syrai snickered. :Squish.:  
  
Wingblade drew her sword, grinning maliciously. Two of the mounted raiders rushed her. Her left hand flicked forward. One of them found himself riding through a long, steel knife.  
  
She caught the other one's axe on her sword. Twisting the blade, she jammed it down into his arm. He howled and dropped the axe. He yelled even louder when she ran him through.  
  
:Dearheart,: said Syrai, :I think we're two of a kind.:  
  
:You've got that right.:  
  
Wingblade heard a scream behind her. She twisted in the saddle to find that one of the raiders had been targeting her with a crossbow. Had been. He now lay dead on the ground with clear talon marks all over him. Wingblade thanked Kyiir as Syrai leapt forwards again.  
  
Companion hooves, gyrfalcon claws, and Hawkbrother sword took out nine more raiders before the rest broke and ran. Wingblade sighed and massaged a cut on her arm.  
  
:You know, I've never fought on horseback before.:  
  
:Really?: Syrai said with feigned surprise. :Well, guess what? I've never fought with a rider before!:  
  
Wingblade clapped her Companion's shoulder affectionately. :Well, I'd better go get my knife.: She dismounted and walked over to the slain raider. Yanking it out uncerimoniously, she used the unbloodied part of his tunic to clean it, then rreturned it to its sheath.  
  
:Umm...Chosen, we have company.:  
  
Wingblade turned around to find the village folk gathered together, staring at her. She smiled at them. A few flinched as if in fear.  
  
:They'd thank you, but I think they're scared.:  
  
:You think?:  
  
Wingblade looked at them. :Is there anyone in need of help?:  
  
At hearing Mindspeech, about three-quarters of the assembled people turned and ran. Most of the others cowered in fear. Wingblade sighed and bespoke her gyrfalcon. :Come on, Kyiir. I think we're not welcome.:  
  
Kyiir swooped down and landed on her shoulder. This effectively, quickly dispersed the remainder of the townsfolk.  
  
:That was smooth.: commented Syrai.  
  
:I didn't hear you offering any advice, Oh fountain of wisdom.: retorted Wingblade as she got back in the saddle. :Besides, I'm a scout and have never dealt with non-Tayledras, excepting of course those who invade our territory, who all end up dead.:  
  
:Still.: The Companion trotted away. :I've taught you enough Valdemarian that you should have at least been able to speak to them. Why didn't you?:  
  
:I'm not comforatable with the tongue, okay?:  
  
Seeing that this was getting her nowhere, the mare changed the subject. :Where did you ever get to be so good with a blade? I've never seen anyone fight like that!:  
  
:How do you think I got my name? I practice constantly, and have plenty of opportunities to excersie my skill. And, ever since - :  
  
Wingblade cut off what she was going to say and quickly blocked off her train of thought from her Companion. They rode the rest of the way in silence.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
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	6. Secret

I'm not supposed to be doing this. I'm supposed to be doing my homework.  
  
Tiamat: This is unusual?  
  
RonethDragon: *to author* Why are you wasting time on this when you should be working?  
  
Because working when you're supposed to is too logical.  
  
Plot twist coming up! There's been foreboding...  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
It was nine more days before they reached Haven. They spent all their nights out in the open. Syrai wanted to stop at a town or Waystation, but Wingblade adamantly refused. The memory of her greeting in that one town was still fresh on her mind. She didn't want to have to deal with that again, despite Syrai's constant assurances that her Valdemarian should be good enough to speak to anyone.  
  
Wingblade heard Haven long before she saw it. The sounds of the city, which she had never heard the like of before, were clear and unmistakable. She shivered, but whether in anticipation or dread she wasn't sure.  
  
:How close are we?: she asked.  
  
:Fairly close.: replied Syrai.  
  
As they approached the outer wall, Kyiir dove down and landed on Wingblade's shoulder, nuzzling her cheek. :Not like.: he said. :Too large. Too loud.:  
  
Wingblade stroked his head in reassurance.  
  
Syrai had apparently taken a back road in, because they hadn't met anybody during their ride. As soon as they entered the walls, however, there were people everywhere. In front of them, to all sides of them, laughing, talking, trading, working.  
  
Wingblade shuddered. There was far too much noise. She had never heard such a cacophony in her life, certainly at not such a volume. And she had never, ever, been in the middle of so many people!  
  
To make matters worse, her appearance was drawing a crowd. A Herald was a fairly common sight, but a girl who was obviously a Hawkbrother mounted on a Companion instantly grabbed everyone's attention. They were all gasping and gawking. Very loudly.  
  
Wingblade sat tall in the saddle, trying to ignore both the sounds and the fact that everyone was staring at her. She gripped the reigns until her knuckles turned white and bit her lip until it bled.  
  
Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore. Breathing raggedly, she dropped the reigns and clapped her hands over both ears. :Shut up!: she sobbed to Syrai and Kyiir. :Shut up, stop talking, oh please just make them SHUT UP!:  
  
Syrai shook her head and snorted at her Chosen's agation. But Kyiir raised his head and shrieked. The noises died down for a moment. Then, before it could start up again, he flared his wings and screeched for twice as long. When the people got over their startlement, they spoke in much-hushed tones.  
  
Wingblade gingerly removed her hands from her ears. Seeing that the noise had dropped to a respectable level, she sighed in relief. :Thank you, Kyiir.:  
  
The gyrfalcon gave a mental shrug. :You ears hurt, they ears hurt. They learn better.:  
  
Syrai swished her tail. :I didn't think falcons had a sense of humor.:  
  
:Bondbirds do.: replied Wingblade.  
  
Suddenly, a young man dressed in a Guard's uniform leapt forward and grasped Syrai's reigns. "Halt!" he shouted.  
  
Wingblade was confused. :What's going on?:  
  
:I don't know.: Syrai replied.  
  
"Get off the mare. You idiot girl, this is not a riding horse. This is a Companion! Don't tell me you Hawkbrothers haven't heard of them!"  
  
The man's yelling had drawn another crowd. Wingblade just stared at him. His mind was wide open, so she read his outer thoughts.  
  
He 'knew' a Hawkbrother couldn't be Chosen. He was new to the Guard and to Haven. So he was sure Wingblade had stolen the Companion, maybe killed its Herald.  
  
*Ye gods. Why do they let people like this into the Guard?*  
  
Syrai seemed to find this whole thing amusing, however. She whinnied, eyes glittering with laughter. :Go on, Chosen. Explain.:  
  
The man's eyes bored into her. Wingblade shrank into the saddle. :I-I can't.:  
  
Kyiir clicked his beak and glared at the Guard. Mistaking this for a threat, his hand went to his sword. That motion snapped Wingblade out of her self-consciousness.  
  
:Don't touch him!: she yelled at the Guard. Never mind that he had no Mindspeech; she was angry. :Don't you even think about it!:  
  
The Guard reeled back and stared, wide-eyed, at the furious Tayledras.  
  
Wingblade's eyes glittered. :I've been Chosen, you moron. Syrai's taking me and my bondbird to the Palace and the Herald's Collegium. Now get out of the way.:  
  
Startled, the man automatically did so. Syrai shook her reigns out of his hands and raced forwards.  
  
:Why did you Mindspeak him? How did you Mindspeak him?: Syrai's tone was accusatory. :He had no Mind-Gifts, and you know Valdemarian perfectly well! You even understood what he was saying!:  
  
Wingblade didn't answer, but tightened her grip on the reigns.  
  
They approached a series of huge buildings. Wingblade stared up at them, half fascinated, half intimidated. Why, they were probably as tall as the trees in the Peligars!  
  
Syrai took them a small back path and walked along a long, white fence. Waiting in front of them, apparently for her, were three white-clad figures, two female and one male, with three Companions behind them. The fourth figure, however, was clearly Tayledras. His long black hair was streaked with white from mage-energy. A gyrfalcon was perched on the fence behind him.  
  
Wingblade swallowed. Tayledras, Adept, a gyrfalcon bondbird. There was only one Hawkbrother in Valdemar that fit that description. Darkwind k'Sheyna.  
  
"Welcome to the Collegium," said the older of the women. "I am Talia, the Queen's Own."  
  
Wingblade dismounted. :Wingblade k'Rayna, Chosen of Syrai.:  
  
All of them looked startled, Talia most of all. She looked around, confused. "But...I have no Mindspeech, only Empathy. How did I hear that?"  
  
The man beside her fixed Wingblade with a stern gaze. "I would like to know why she Mindspoke in the first place."  
  
Darkwind smiled a bit. "Wingblade, do you not know Valdemarian?" he asked in Tayledras.  
  
Wingblade shook her head. :No. I mean, yes, I know Valdemarian perfectly well. Syrai taught me.:  
  
"Then," asked Talia, taking charge, "why do you not speak to us?"  
  
Wingblade turned towards Syrai, twisting her fingers in the Companion's mane and burying her face in the mare's shoulder. She had known it would come to this, but she hadn't thought it would be so soon. :I can't.: she whispered.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Wingblade turned towards them, fury conflicting with despair. Were they so dense that they needed it spelled out for them?  
  
:I'M MUTE!: she screamed. Only in the minds of those before her, but with strength enough to make them all grasp their heads in pain.  
  
The youngest Herald's eyes filled with pity. "What happened, to inflict this on you?"  
  
Wingblade took two large steps backwards, away from all of them. :I was born.: she said bitterly. :That's what 'happened'. I was _born_ mute.: She clenched her fists. :I have never _spoken_ a _word_ in my _life_.:  
  
The pity that flooded all their eyes filled Wingblade with rage and shredded the last of her self-control. With a mental scream, she charged straight at them. Confused, they let her through. She vaulted the fence and was running, running far away from them and their pity and their I'm-so- sorry faces. As she ran, she threw up her shields against both Mindspeech and Empathy, building them to a strength she hadn't before. She blocked out everyone and everything, except a little thread so that Kyiir could find her. Even in her distress, she couldn't bear to block out her bondbird.  
  
She sensed the others following, and sent a lash of painful mind-energy back at them. Someone screamed. She didn't care.  
  
She reached a stand of trees. Not stopping or slowing, she darted straight through them. Keeping them between her and her pursuers, she got to another group. This time, she chose the largest one and swung herself up onto the lowest branch. Then she climbed up until she had reached the highest branch that could hold her weight.  
  
Wingblade sat down, panting. Then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Who saw that coming? Probably only me. More coming. I'm working as fast as I can. Keep reviewing!  
  
And, if there's an inconsistency between my story and a book, DO NOT put it in your review! Email me at ronethdragon@yahoo.com and I will FIX it. Thank you for your consideration.  
  
And REVIEW!  
  
  
  
~RonethDragon Tiamat 


	7. Argument

Need more reviews.  
  
Last chapter was dancing around in my head for a VERY long time, so I'm glad you took the time to review it and made my insanity worthwhile *hint hint*.  
  
It's too late at night for me to be writing so I'm hyper and have probably lost my period button so this might be a really long sentence but hey who cares not me for certain and someone please shut me up *large blue lightning bolt hits the author* okay I'll be quiet wait that wasn't really a very long sentence so I should babble like this for a while it's really quite easy once you get into the rhythm and I'm sorry for taking up space away from the story but *gets hit by blue bolts from heaven until she shuts up*  
  
More switching POVs. I made RonethDragon and Tiamat keep their muzzles out of this one, so enjoy!  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
The three Heralds, four Companions, Hawkbrother, and gyrfalcon raced across the Companion's Field, trying to catch up with the retreating figure.  
  
Suddenly, Rolan, who was in the lead, and Syrai stopped short, dancing in sudden pain. Talia, who had been half on Rolan's back, fell off and hit the ground, grabbing her head and screaming. Dirk instantly ran to her side.  
  
Talia lifted her head and smiled weakly. "Ow."  
  
The entire group had ground to a halt. Elspeth felt Gwena's nose butting her shoulder.  
  
:Rolan told me what happened. Wingblade lashed out with her Mindspeech. They weren't shielded, so got caught with the full brunt of it.:  
  
:I didn't know you could do that.:  
  
:Well, apparently it's possible.:  
  
:Could you have Syrai lead us to her?:  
  
Gwena flicked her tail. :Umm...we have a slight difficulty. Syrai says Wingblade's shut her out.:  
  
Elspeth looked over at Syrai. The mare was clearly agaited beyond the mind- lash effects Rolan was experiencing. She was dancing around, whinnying, eyes wide in panic.  
  
Elspeth walked over to Talia, who was gingerly getting to her feet while Dirk was making a fuss. "Talia, Wingblade's shut out her Companion. Do you think you could find her?"  
  
"Considering that she ran away with heightened emotions, probably." The Queen's Own closed her eyes. After a few moments, she opened them again.  
  
"Either she's disappeared off the face of the world, she's out of range, or she's got the best shields I've ever felt. I can't even get a trace of her."  
  
Elspeth looked around, at a loss for what to do. Then a feathery lightning bolt dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of their little group. An unfamiliar gyrfalcon smoothed down his wing feathers and gazed expectantly up at Darkwind.  
  
"Who are you?" asked Elspeth.  
  
:Kyiir. Mind-friend Wingblade.:  
  
Elspeth nodded. "Do you know where she is?"  
  
The falcon nodded.  
  
She tried to quell her excitement. "Could you lead us to her?"  
  
Kyiir shuffled a bit. :No.:  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Kyiir gave them all a piercing stare. :Hurting. Crying. Mind-hurt. Heart hurt.:  
  
"I _know_. We want to help her."  
  
:Words hurt.:  
  
"We didn't say anything to upset her." Gwena snorted. "All right, maybe I was a little tactless. But I wouldn't think that would send her running away in hysterics!"  
  
:You talk. Home, not speak. Use mind-voice. Noises scare, speak-voice make sad.:  
  
The three Heralds exchanged baffled glances. But Darkwind, who had been concentrating, nodded a bit.  
  
"I think I understand. Apparently, at the k'Rayna Vale, they always spoke to her in Mindspeech so she wouldn't feel left out."  
  
"Oh." Understanding crept into Dirk's eyes. "So, when we spoke to her..."  
  
:She was unused to hearing people's voices. She panicked.: Gwena sighed. :Syrai's completely freaked, she's sure it's her fault her Chosen is upset. She thinks that she should have realized earlier, been more supportive, gotten Wingblade used to people's voices or at least guessed her secret.:  
  
Elspeth repeated this to Talia, who shook her finger at the Companion. "Stop panicking. Your Chosen's fine, and you've done just as you ought."  
  
"Now what should we do?"  
  
Darkwind looked back at Kyiir. "We understand about Wingblade now. Will you lead us to her?"  
  
The bondbird shook his head. :Not good plan.: he explained. :Wingblade jumpy. Upset. Cry out. Then better. Come when ready.: Then the gyrfalcon took off.  
  
Dirk scratched his head. "What should we do now?"  
  
Talia sighed. "Ask all the Companions to search for her. Other than that, wait."  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Stories good. Reviews really good.  
  
Someone please look at my other fics! They aren't Mercedes Lackey, but they're still good! (most of them) I promise! 


	8. First Day

Last chapter was necessary. Short and informative and essential to the plotline. Do not flame me for its shortness. It couldn't help itself. This one is much longer.  
  
Now, on to the story!  
  
Tiamat: What story?  
  
Tiamat! You're supposed to be a part of ME!  
  
Tiamat: But I don't like this story.  
  
How can you not like it? It's MERCEDES LACKEY!  
  
Tiamat: It's missing its plotline.  
  
RonethDragon: SHUT UP!!!!!!!!! I WANT TO WRITE!!!!!!!!!  
  
You're not the one writing...  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Wingblade rubbed her eyes. *Great. I DID have to sleep facing the sun.*  
  
Perched on the branch in front of her was Kyiir. Seeing that she was awake, he hopped onto her wrist.  
  
:You're getting too big for that.:  
  
:You bigger, too. You handle.: Kyiir cocked his head. :White-coats, white- horses worry. Search. Not find. Sorry for words.:  
  
Wingblade sighed. :I probably shouldn't have stayed out all night.: She slowly lowered her shields and reached out for Syrai. There was a moment of surprise, then excitement.  
  
:Wingblade! Where are you? I couldn't sense you! I didn't know if something had happened! No one could find you! Are you all right?:  
  
:I'm fine.: Wingblade dropped down a couple branches. :I'll lead you to where I am.:  
  
The Companion, following her Chosen's mental prompts, arrived beneath the tree. :Where are you? I don't see you.:  
  
Wingblade smiled and dropped straight onto Syrai's back. Thankfully, the Companion didn't rear.  
  
:A tree. You were up in a tree. No wonder we couldn't find you. Young lady, did you spend all night up there?:  
  
:Yes.: Wingblade drew a deep breath. :But I'm ready to talk with the Heralds now.:  
  
:Good. And, Chosen?:  
  
:Yes?:  
  
:Don't ever, EVER, shut me out again.:  
  
Syrai trotted back towards the Palace. When they got there, Wingblade dismounted and stepped inside.  
  
:You don't even know where you're going!:  
  
:That's right. You're going to lead me.:  
  
Syrai paused. :Oh.:  
  
With her Companion's help, Wingblade didn't make more than two or three wrong turns. She did get a horde of stares, mostly from the servants, which she tried to ignore. She arrived outside a door.  
  
:Go in. Dirk, the Orientations instructor, is in there.:  
  
Taking a deep breath, Wingblade pushed the door open. She was halfway through when she saw his face. She froze.  
  
It was the third Herald that had greeted her!  
  
Just as she was considering running back the way she'd came from, Dirk spotted her. "You're early," he remarked. "Come on in - Wingblade, isn't it?"  
  
Wingblade could barely suppress a sigh of relief. At least the Heralds were being sensible. :Yes, my name is Wingblade.:  
  
Dirk started, then shook his head a bit. "It is distinctly odd to feel another _human_ inside your head." Belatedly, Wingblade realized that he had no Mindspeech. She'd have to watch out for that.  
  
:Syrai said that you were the... 'Orientations' instructor. What is that, exactly?:  
  
"I'm in charge of teaching the newly-Chosen about what it means to be a Herald. Not that you'd need it, being Tayledras."  
  
Wingblade smiled. :Actually, I probably know less than the rest of the students. Even if they're peasants, normally Heralds are from _Valdemar _. I am not. Before Syrai Chose me, I had never seen a Companion, let alone a Herald.:  
  
Dirk raised an eyebrow at that. But, before he could inquire further, there was a knock on the door. He changed the subject. "Orientation is beginning. Sit down, anywhere."  
  
Wingblade smiled and took a seat as far back as she could.  
  
Within a few minutes, the other Trainees were here. Four of them, two boys and two other girls. Dirk gave them his huge grin.  
  
"Welcome to the Collegium. For those of you who don't know each other, this is Maya." He indicated a short girl in front who looked like she should have been in the Guard.  
  
He pointed to a similar-looking pair, girl and boy, in the back of the room. "That's Haran and Freya. They're siblings."  
  
"This is Kilim." The boy was older than most of them, with tousled brown hair and eyes of the same color.  
  
"And, sitting in the corner," Dirk raised his eyebrow at her, "is Wingblade k'Rayna."  
  
Everyone's head turned instantly. Wingblade smiled and fought down the urge to run screaming out the door.  
  
"Now that we've been introduced, who would like to start us off by explaining what Heralds do?"  
  
Wingblade listened, fascinated, as the class progressed. She hadn't lied to Dirk. She knew almost nothing about Heralds. She just sat there and absorbed all this knowledge, figuring out what her new title meant.  
  
Near the end of the class, Haran raised his hand. "Sir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"She's a Trainee, right?" He jerked his thumb at Wingblade. She seethed inwardly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then why hasn't she been answering questions?"  
  
Dirk started to speak, but Wingblade shook her head. She'd deal with this herself. She lowered her shields a bit and Broadcast to the room.  
  
:I am, indeed, a Trainee. Chosen of Syrai, if you bothered to ask your Companion. And I don't speak because I can't. I can only Mindspeak.:  
  
The Trainees looked startled, for any of several reasons, and Haran was properly abashed. Wingblade looked at Dirk and saw he was smiling. He approved.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
In the hall, Kilim caught up with Wingblade. "Hey...uh...hi."  
  
:Hello.: Wingblade replied, as friendly as possible.  
  
"Uh...I was a noble before I was Chosen, and I know my way around the Palace and Collegium. I was wondering if you might...you know...need some help finding your way around?" He timidly held out his hand.  
  
Wingblade took his hand. Automatically, she checked his Gifts. :I'm sure,: she started as she saw Projecting Mindspeech and a bit of Healing, :that I would be-:  
  
Suddenly she froze. Her heart constricted. This Trainee was Mage-Gifted! At least Master potential.  
  
She backed away, trying not to show her shock. She saw the question in Kilim's eyes. Before he could ask, she turned and ran.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Dirk came out just in time to see Wingblade running down the hallway, away from Kilim. The Trainee was standing there, hand outstretched, looking confused and hurt.  
  
Dirk went over to him. "What happened?"  
  
"I...don't know. She shaking my hand, and I think saying she'd accept my offer to lead her around until she got used to it here. Then she just...ran away. Without saying anything."  
  
Dirk looked down the now-empty corridor. He said nothing. There was nothing to say.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Wingblade ran until she had left the buildings. She kept running, then climbed a tree again. She knew it was a bad idea, but she was so unused to being around people.  
  
Kyiir flew down against her. She stroked him, feeling better just by him being there.  
  
Mage-Gift! She'd forgotten that the Heralds had rediscovered Herald-Mages. Wingblade had spent the last few years of her life avoiding any male with Journeyman or above Mage-Gift. Now she'd have to deal with them, every day, hour after hour. Her stomach twisted in knots just thinking about it.  
  
:I don't know if I can do this.: she told her gyrfalcon.  
  
Kyiir nuzzled her cheek. :Yes, will. Adapt. Be fine. Will learn.:  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Alone. She was alone.  
  
No sunlight shone. Darkness flickered like a candle flame.  
  
"Well, well," leered a male face before her, eyes gleaming with cruel fire. "A mute Hawkbrother. Or is it Hawksister, little girl?"  
  
Steel. A knife. She tried to scream. Couldn't! No voice!  
  
Blood on the knife. Her blood. Pain seared across her chest. It burned as the face laughed and the knife shone and blood dripped to the floor.  
  
Wingblade's Mindspeech exploded into being. :AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!: she screamed, knowing no one would hear her, she was too far away, trapped, alone, -  
  
:AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!: she screamed, sitting bolt upright in her bed. In Haven. Safe. Her chest heaved as she breathed hard.  
  
It's just a dream, she reassured herself. Just another nightmare. It's over. It's gone. Can't be afraid of a dream.  
  
Syrai whinnied, her fear for her Chosen echoing in Wingblade's mind. Dimly, the girl heard the Companion's hooves against stone. Kyiir, who knew this nightmare, was awake in her room, but calm.  
  
The door burst open and half a dozen Trainees, all with Mindspeaking Gifts, raced in. "Are you all right?" asked one, out of breath.  
  
Wingblade nodded. :I'm fine. Fine. It was just a nightmare.:  
  
Satisfied, they left.  
  
As soon as they were gone, Wingblade got off her bed. She shed her shift and went to the mirror.  
  
One hand reached up and traced the line of a scar. An old scar, barely visible. From her left shoulder down across her right breast. She shivered, not with the night air, but with memory.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Please review my stories. All of them. This one included. 


	9. Lost Control

Does anyone know WHY ff.n split into two sites? I mean, I get their logic, but it means people have to go through a lot more trouble to read original stuff if they're reading fanfiction.....  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Wingblade woke up at least a mark before the first bell. The first thing she did was complain to Syrai about the Heraldic Grays.  
  
:They're just so.....so.....BORING! And PLAIN! How can people wear these? They're not even an interesting color!:  
  
Syrai sighed. :Chosen, they have a long tradition behind them. You ARE a Trainee. Therefore, you WILL wear them. All right?:  
  
:Bah: Wingblade muttered. :What I wouldn't give for a heratasi right now.:  
  
:We don't have any. You'll have to make do.:  
  
:Has anyone ever told you that you're annoying?:  
  
:Yes. You. Just now.:  
  
Wingblade rolled her eyes. :Fine. But I'm making some alterations.:  
  
When Wingblade got down to the dining hall for breakfast, the other Trainees stared at her. Her skin and hair should have been enough of a clue, but Wingblade wanted them all to know exactly where she stood. She had redone the uniform so that the shoulders had padding for Kyiir's talons. Her leather armguards were strapped on; she most certainly did not want Kyiir to accidentally scratch her. And she had spent the rest of her time in the morning embroidering Tayledras designs on her Grays. Wingblade was sure every gaze in the hall was on her. She Sensed their confusion and suppressed a smile. They'd learn to deal with it.   
  
When she sat down with her food, she was tentatively approached by a few Trainees that she didn't recognize. "Um.....are you a Trainee?" asked one of them.  
  
Wingblade laughed a bit and nodded.   
  
"But.....you're Tayledras....."  
  
:If you're Chosen, you're Chosen.: Wingblade replied.   
  
Once they had gotten over their shock at the Mindspeech, they exploded into questions. The others saw that they weren't getting attacked, so began to head over. By the time the next bell rang, Wingblade found herself surrounded by half the Trainees in the Collegium, all eager to talk to her. She was enjoying herself; she hadn't had this much attention since.....She shut her eyes to block out that line of thought.  
  
As she closed her eyes, she sensed Mage-Gift. Her eyes flew open and met Kalim's questioning gaze. She got up hastily from the table. :Aren't we supposed to leave now?: she asked those around her. They nodded and began dispersing. In the ensuing confusion, Wingblade slipped away from Kalim.   
  
Classes began that day. Wingblade's knowledge was extremely skewed; she was either at the bottom or the top of every single class. To her relief, only two Trainees were Mage-Gifted, and both were female.   
  
Besides Kalim. Oh, that was a problem. Fortunately, his experience was the reverse of hers, so he wasn't in any of her classes, besides with the Weaponsmaster. But in the Collegium, as Wingblade found, it was very difficult to avoid people.  
  
At dinner, she caught sight of him heading towards her. She winced inwardly, closed her eyes, and put up the strongest shield she could muster. She would have left, but she had only started eating.   
  
"Wingblade?" he said softly. She tried to ignore him.   
  
"Wingblade, why did you run away? I didn't think I'd done anything." Despite her shields, her bit of Empathy picked up anger and hurt from him. "Is it because I'm a noble?"  
  
She stared at her plate. Her hands clenched into fists as she fought from responding to him. Either with Mindspeech or with a knife. Being so close to Mage-Gift was almost like physical pain.   
  
"It's not, is it?" She heard the bitterness in his tone. "It's just because you're a Hawkbrother.....you think you're too good for any of us ordinary folk. Us people who only have Companions, not bondbirds as well."  
  
Wingblade closed her eyes. 'It's not that,' she wanted to tell him. But she couldn't. She couldn't stand being near him any longer. She realized that she wasn't hungry anymore, so stood up and quietly walked out of the room, trying to ignore the tightening in her gut.  
  
His Gift wasn't HIS fault. She wanted badly to go back and say she was sorry, that there was nothing wrong with him, that she would like to be his friend. But she couldn't trust herself. She might hurt him without wanting to.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Two weeks of Wingblade avoiding Kalim later.....  
  
Wingblade had known this was coming. She didn't have ForeSight, but she had known it anyway. She had pretended to have less skill with weapons than she actually did, but she was still good enough to catch the Weaponmaster's eye. And Kalim, because of his many weapons tutors, was about as good as she pretended to be.   
  
Alberich looked at her, than at Kalim. "Fight well, you two do. Past time it is that you should duel. Knives, I think." He gestured towards the armory. "Behind there, that you would not distract the class."  
  
Wingblade numbly picked up a knife. For a moment, she considered running away and climbing a tree again. But then she shook her head. She could deal with this. She hoped.  
  
They faced off. Kalim's face was completely blank. He wasn't an idiot; he HAD to have noticed that she was purposely avoiding him. This duel was apt to not be a pleasant one.   
  
At first, there was only circling, with the occasional feint. Then Wingblade lunged forward and engaged him. Their knives moved with lightning speed. Blocking, then attacking, only to be blocked themselves and pull back to block again.   
  
Suddenly, Kalim did this odd stab that threw her off balance. She fell to the ground, dropping her weapon.   
  
Kalim's knife flashed down at her. Reflex kicked in, and she rolled out of the way. But her subconscious registered the attack in a different manner.   
  
Mage. Knife. Danger!  
  
As Kalim approached her again, she struck out with her leg, a move Alberich had NOT yet taught the class. Unprepared, he fell down. She snatched up her knife and sprang to her feet as Kalim stood back up. She caught the momentary confusion on his face, which was replaced by concentration.   
  
Wingblade threw up her shields, hardening them to a wall which not even Kyiir could penetrate. Then she leapt at Kalim. He caught her blow on his arm. The tip of his knife nearly hit over her heart.   
  
~ ~   
  
"Too bad you can't scream for me, little girl." A knife slowly, agonizingly, cut across her chest.  
  
~ ~  
  
Wingblade screamed inside her head. She struck out again, but threw all of the Herald's lessons out the window. She attacked with her full skill as a Tayledras scout.   
  
Her blow caught him on the side of his head. He fell. As she came in for another strike, he panicked and lashed her with his untrained magic. Agony coursed through her body. Fire and ice burned on her throat, cheek, and wrist. With the pain went all of Wingblade's remaining control and sanity.  
  
Before her wasn't Kalim. It was the man who still haunted her dreams, eyes gleaming, dagger in hand. He, not the Trainee, got to his feet.  
  
*Not again. Never again. He will not touch me!*  
  
Their blades crossed. Wingblade glared at her opponent. Then their blades darted up, down, all directions, parry and feint.   
  
The next time their blades locked, Wingblade's free hand darted to a special addition to her Grays. She lashed upwards with her hunting knife, and caught her opponent on the arm. He gasped and stumbled backwards, now bleeding.   
  
A feral grin spread across Wingblade's face. Madness gleamed in her eyes as she flipped the dagger into fighting position. She hadn't caught him very hard, unfortunately. She would have to remedy that.   
  
Her opponent was forced to give ground as she pressed forward. Two blades against one was no contest. Soon his back was to a wall, with several very real cuts on his spare arm.   
  
Wingblade caught his knife on her practice one. Her Tayledras knife cut the back of his hand. Taking advantage of his distraction and pain, she twisted her blade, throwing his several feet away. She raised the dagger for a final strike.   
  
Just then, a blow hit her head. She was knocked backward and momentarily stunned. She blinked and looked up into the cold steel eyes of the Weaponsmaster.   
  
*_Alberich_. Goddess..... *  
  
Her memory suddenly came back to her. She hadn't been fighting that man. She had been dueling Kalim. Kalim!  
  
She looked over to him. He was holding the cuts on his arm with his injured hand.   
  
*I nearly killed him. I WOULD have killed him, if Alberich hadn't stopped me. *  
  
Wingblade dropped her shields a bit. :Are you all right?: she asked tentatively, getting to her feet. He scrabbled backwards, wincing at the pain from his arm. Tears came to her eyes. *He's scared of me. Goddess, what have I done?*  
  
Alberich was still staring at her. By now, the rest of the class had come over to see what had happened and was gawking at Kalim's cuts.   
  
"What to do with you, I know not," Alberich said finally. "Nor why you have that blade." He indicated her hunting knife. "Not one of ours, I think."  
  
Syrai chose that moment to jump in. :Chosen, what happened? Half the herd is in an uproar. Something to do with you and Kalim.:  
  
Wingblade didn't answer. She stared at the ground and sheathed her knife.   
  
*How could I have lost control? First the nightmare, now this. I was fine in the Vale!* A lump formed in her throat. *I shouldn't be a Herald.....I'm too dangerous. I can't even control myself for the length of a practice duel!*  
  
Syrai caught the gist of that thought and immediately denied it. :Wingblade. Chosen. You are MY CHOSEN. Companions don't Choose wrongly. Everyone in Valdemar knows that! Don't ever, EVER, doubt that you are less than worthy to be where you are.:  
  
Wingblade gave her Companion a weak mental smile. :Thanks.:  
  
Alberich waved his hand. The other students reluctantly dispersed. Kalim was still in shock. The Weaponsmaster's eyes were still locked on Wingblade.   
  
"An explanation, I am wanting."  
  
Wingblade shook her head. :I have none to offer.:  
  
Alberich seemed surprised at that. There was a long silence.   
  
"To your quarters, you will go," he said abruptly. "Stay there until a decision is reached."  
  
:Yes, sir.: Wingblade whispered. She turned around and headed back to the main building, wondering what she had gotten herself into now.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~ 


	10. Across the Line

I combined two chapters because one of them was too short. Next chapter is my favorite...which, for those of you who know me and my writing, means it's the most depressing. This one ends a little cliff-hanger-y, which means I might leave it alone for a few weeks and let you stew...*winces under evil glares* Just kidding!  
  
And I'd like you all to meet my new muse-conscience-annoying-winged-hovers- around-head person! Introducing BlakDragon!  
  
BlakDragon: *bows* Thank you, thank you.  
  
Tiamat: You're a newbie muse. Shut up.  
  
RonethDragon: Tia, be nice to the newcomer...  
  
Tiamat: DON'T CALL ME TIA!!!!!!!!!!! *FOOOOOOOOM*  
  
Sigh. *gigantic three-dragon battle in background* Ignore them, and enjoy the story.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Wingblade paced back and forth across her quarters. Kyiir was perched on the windowsill. Syrai stood down below, having received a full low-down on the incident from Kalim's Companion. Wingblade, for lack of something better to do, was complaining.  
  
:I'm bored.:  
  
:You've been saying that ever since you shut the door.:  
  
:Your point?:  
  
:It's getting a little repetitive.:  
  
:But I'm BORED!:  
  
Syrai gave a wordless sigh. :Then find something to do.:  
  
:There's nothing to do.:  
  
Kyiir interrupted. :Leave alone, horse. She complain. She like. You be quiet.:  
  
:So now a HAWK is telling me to shut up?!?:  
  
:Falcon! Not hawk:  
  
:Do I care?:  
  
:Both of you, be quiet!: That was one of the many troubles about having both of them in her head. When any two of them talked, all three heard it. :I'm STLL bored!:  
  
:Then DO something!:  
  
:In my room?:  
  
:Sword?:  
  
:Shut up, Kyiir.: Wingblade stopped pacing and blinked. :Wait. That's not a bad idea. At least it'll get some energy out.:  
  
:Chosen, what are you talking about?:  
  
:You'll see.: Wingblade changed into her scout uniform, complete with sword. Then she pushed the nonexistent furniture to the sides of the room. Drawing the sword, she held it in both hands before her face.  
  
Breathe in, breathe out. She began slowly twirling the sword, keeping both hands on the hilt. The blade spun faster and faster, now in her right hand, now in her left. She grasped the hilt, struck outwards, slashed down, and resumed twirling it. Every few seconds, she interrupted her sword-spinning to do a swift jab or slash, never letting her sword stop moving or lose momentum.  
  
Wingblade spun around - and came to an abrupt halt. Standing in the doorway, watching her, was Talia. Wingblade blinked a few times and lowered her sword, feeling slightly sheepish.  
  
"I've never seen anyone do anything like that," commented the Queen's Own. "That was amazing. But I'm here to give you the news."  
  
:Which is?: Wingblade wasn't sure if she was looking forward to or dreading the answer.  
  
"You, of course, cannot be thrown out of the Collegium. But we can't risk the other Trainees to whatever happened today. If you have an explanation, we need to hear it."  
  
Wingblade nodded slowly. She sheathed her sword and gave Talia a weak smile. :I understand.:  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Wingblade lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She had been like this for the past mark.  
  
What was she to do now? They couldn't throw her out unless Syrai didn't want her anymore. But they couldn't trust her around the other Trainees unless they knew what happened.  
  
Back and forth she worried her options, as she had been doing with no answer. Tell, or don't? It would probably be fine to tell them. But she was afraid. Afraid of reliving the memory again. Afraid they'd think she was crazy.  
  
Syrai tentatively touched her mind. :Want to do that sword-thing again?:  
  
Wingblade shook her head. :Not really.:  
  
:I thought you had fun last time.:  
  
:It is fun, but I need time to think.:  
  
Syrai withdrew. Wingblade kept staring at the ceiling. Particularly the cracks. That one almost looked like a Companion sitting on its tail, if she stretched her imagination hard enough.  
  
Another mind poked at hers, this time with slightly less gentleness. Kyiir.  
  
:Not tell?:  
  
:I don't know.:  
  
:Why?:  
  
:I'm scared, birdbrain. I really don't want to tell them.:  
  
:Sunsong help. Talk him.:  
  
Wingblade sat up. :He's in k'Rayna. I can't reach him.:  
  
:Can. Will. Try?:  
  
:He might be right, you know,: interjected Syrai. That was the problem with having two not-animals in her head. All three heard when they spoke to each other. :You're the most powerful Mindspeaker I've ever seen, including Rolan and Gwena. You probably could.:  
  
:I guess there's no harm in trying.: Wingblade leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She reached out with her mind. Farther and farther she stretched, much farther than she'd ever tried before. For the first time, she felt her Gift straining. Just when she was about to give up, she sensed the familiar mind she sought. Stretching just a little farther, she touched Sunsong. He started. She sensed excitement and surprise, which was quickly followed by concern. :Wingblade? Is that you?:  
  
:It is indeed.:  
  
:Where are you? Aren't you supposed to be in Haven?:  
  
:I AM in Haven. Kyiir and Syrai - my Companion - told me to see if I could reach you.:  
  
:That's...that's impossible. Amazing. I never dreamed you were that strong.:  
  
:Neither did I. How are you?:  
  
:Good. You?:  
  
:Fine, I suppose. It's very confusing. I wish I was quicker at learning languages. What news from the Vale?:  
  
There was silence for a few moments, something which made Wingblade shiver. Sunsong's Mindvoice came back reluctantly. :Nightstar's dead.:  
  
Wingblade nearly lost her link at that. Tears fell on her arms. She took a few deep breaths. She and Nightstar had always been close. :How?:  
  
:After you left, there was no one free to take over your sector. Nightstar offered, to let a pair of new scouts take hers, which is easier. She was out on night patrol when she was beset by a pack of Changewolves. No one was within her Mindspeech range. She sent her owls to fetch us, but she was killed before we reached her.:  
  
Wingblade clenched her hands into fists. Tears ran down her face. *Nightstar dead. It's my fault. If I hadn't come here, forsaken my duties as a scout, she wouldn't have had to take over my route. I climb better than she does, I've got a MUCH farther Mindspeech range. If I had been there, she wouldn't have died.*  
  
:Ashke?:  
  
:I'm...I'm all right.:  
  
:I'm sorry.:  
  
:Don't be. It's not your fault.:  
  
:I know you. I know something's wrong. Wingblade, what's going on?:  
  
Wingblade's resolve broke. She poured out her story to Sunsong, starting with the Orientations class.  
  
:...and they want an EXPLANATION!: she finished with a wail.  
  
:What do you intend to do?:  
  
:I don't know!:  
  
:Do what your heart says. But here's what I think. Ashke, you can't keep yourself hidden forever. It will hurt to tell, that I'm sure of. But it might help heal as well. Just remember, I love you.:  
  
:I love you, too: Wingblade couldn't keep up any longer. Her Mindspeech link broke with the strain. She stared up at the ceiling again.  
  
:Syrai, could you ask the Companions to call their Heralds out tonight? Not all of them. Just whichever ones need to hear what I have to say.:  
  
:I could try. I will. All right.:  
  
:Kyiir, please be with me tonight.:  
  
:Will. Always. One heart, you me.:  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Wingblade slid off of Syrai's back. Standing in front of her were Talia, Dirk, Elspeth, Alberich, and Darkwind. Darkwind's Mage-Gift burned against her with more strength than Elspeth's. Both of them caused pain, just by existing. She ignored it as well as she could and looked at their faces.  
  
:I have a story to tell you,: she began. :In k'Rayna, not that long ago, there were two scouts who loved each other. One, Silverwind, was an Apprentice-mage; her bondbird was a raven. The other, Icestorm, was the best winter scout in the Vale; he flew a snowy owl. They had a daughter. She was called Silentrain, for she had no voice.:  
  
As she told the story, she let herself go into a place and time which she had tried to bar away. She was drawn down into a memory which she had never wanted to visit again.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Weird stuff coming up!  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Review! 


	11. Bitter Memory

Angsty chapter. Read and review, please!  
  
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:She was called Silentrain, for she had no voice.:  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Eight-year-old Silentrain spun around in the ekele, practice sword in hand. She tossed it up with her right, caught it in her left, and ended the routine with a flourish in front of her mother, Silverwind. Silverwind clapped energetically from over her loom.  
  
"Very good, Silentrain. You'll be better than me soon, if you keep advancing at this rate. Now, could you go get me the thick green thread from my room?"  
  
Silentrain put down the sword and obediently went to her mother's room. As she gathered up the thread, she paused and looked out the window at the snow outside. Silentrain sighed. She would have loved to be either playing in the snow or enjoying the warmer weather in the Vale, but Silverwind had broken her leg. She needed someone to be her legs, and it was too cold outside the Vale for the heratasi. So Silentrain stayed at home.  
  
As she re-entered the main room, heavy footsteps sounded on the ladder. Silverwind started. Silentrain lifted her head in a querying gesture, but Silverwind didn't see her. Silentrain sighed.  
  
A man entered the ekele. His brown hair was tangled and wet; the feathers in it were tattered. His clothes, which were green, looked as if they had once been mage-robes, but had been redone into scout-like style. What looked like bloodstains spotted them. A dagger hung at his left side. His eyes were somehow wild and calmly sane at the same time. There was something wrong with him. Silentrain couldn't actually see anything, but she got this feeling of twisted power.  
  
Silverwind stared. "Snowmoon?" she whispered.  
  
The man shook his head. "Bloodmoon," he corrected softly. Silverwind's eyes widened. Her mouth opened, as if to scream.  
  
Just then, something swooped down at her bondbird. The creature looked like it had once been a hunter, maybe a hawk of some kind. But now its body looked like that of a snake, scales and all. It still had feathered wings, talons, and a hawk-like head. But there were fangs coming out of its raptorial beak. The raven didn't even have a chance to cry out before the creature snapped her back, half-ripped her head off, and threw her to the floor. Silverwind gasped and clapped her hands over her heart. She crumpled to the floor, sobbing.  
  
Silentrain, frightened and huddled in a corner, suddenly felt feelings that weren't hers invading her mind. Agony, as if her heart had been ripped out. Fear of the stranger who called himself Bloodmoon. And, from another source, satisfaction. A feeling of entertainment and pleasure, like this was fun. She held her head in her hands, wishing passionately that she could scream.  
  
*Empathy,* she realized. *I have Empathy. And it chose NOW to start up.*  
  
Bloodmoon walked over to the sobbing woman, a cruel smile on his face. He knelt beside her. Silentrain caught a flash of metal. Silverwind groaned and slumped to the ground. Blood poured out over the floor.  
  
Pain beyond pain ripped through Silentrain. It felt as if someone had stabbed _her_ in her heart. As if her soul was trying to rip loose of her body and fly away. She was being pulled down into a black void. But it wasn't alone. She also felt ecstasy surging through her, a swelling of power which she could not understand. Death-will dragged her down; the strange energy-power fought it and pulled her back up. Finally, after a seeming eternity, both sides ebbed. She found herself curled up on the floor, body racked with silent tears. Something nudged her back. She rolled over and looked up into the almost glowing eyes of the stranger who had killed her mother.  
  
Bloodmoon raised his arm. The snake-hawk looked up from worrying the raven's corpse and took off. It flew clumsily and landed on his glove. He scratched its head as he grinned at Silentrain.  
  
"Well, well," he sneered. "A little mute Hawkbrother. Or would it be Hawksister, little girl?"  
  
Silentrain backed away from him, frightened. She didn't understand why one of her own people would be acting like this. All she knew was that she was in danger.  
  
Bloodmoon sent what must have been his bondbird over to the perch in the back of the room. He turned his gaze back to Silentrain. "You should be dead, you know. You're weak, flawed. Less than normal. The only reason you're alive is because your parents sheltered you, preserved you, kept you here." His face curled into a snarl. "For that, they deserved exactly what they got."  
  
A memory swamped her, one that wasn't hers. It jumped from Bloodmoon's mind and took her over.  
  
~ * ~ * ~  
  
She was Bloodmoon. She knelt in the snow beside Icestorm, a smirk on her face. Sseryk, her bondbird, had pinned Icestorm's owl down by its wing with both talons. Sseryk's fanged beak was placed over the still-living bird's throat. She held a dagger in her hand. Icestorm's body was covered in deep slashes.  
  
She motioned to Sseryk. He ripped the owl's throat out. Icestorm screamed in internal agony. She smiled at his soul-wracked pain. Then she reached out with her free hand and turned one of Icestorm's wrists face-up. She slashed down the long vein, deep enough to kill but shallow enough to be slow and painful. She did the same to the other wrist, then tossed the dagger aside and plunged her hands into the streams of blood that poured out from the slit veins. She sighed in satisfaction as power flowed into her. Blood magic.  
  
~ * ~ * ~  
  
Bloodmoon didn't even see her shock. He glanced over his shoulder at Silverwind's crumpled form. "I wanted to take longer with her, but it was too risky with Mage-Gift. You, on the other hand...not Gifted in the least. Not even a voice to scream - uselessly - for help with. I can take my time."  
  
He reached out with his hand and touched her cheek. Silentrain gasped in pain. His hand burned like fire! She jerked away.  
  
His eyes narrowed. He grabbed her wrist in his left hand and her throat in his right. Energy lashed through her, down from his right to his left. She blacked out for a moment. When she regained consciousness, he still had her in his grasp.  
  
Fire burned, then ice, then fire. Energy lashed through her again and again. Soon she wasn't thinking, only screaming inside her head and screaming at the gods because she couldn't say anything or do anything except be in constant agony. Her world echoed with his mocking laughter. She barely even registered when he ripped her clothes off and threw himself onto her. All she knew was the pain, the pain which didn't stop, fire ice lightning fire again and again and again...  
  
Abruptly, the pain ceased. She lay sprawled on the floor, panting, trying to breathe. Bloodmoon stood over her, smiling sadistically. His knife was out. He knelt down beside her and drew her towards him.  
  
"Too bad you can't scream for me, little girl," he whispered. The knife crept towards her. She tried to move, but he held her fast. The tip dug into her shoulder. Pain lanced through her again. The dagger slowly drew itself down diagonally across her chest, leaving a bloody trail through her skin.  
  
A wall that Silentrain hadn't known existed crumbled and collapsed.  
  
:AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!: she screamed, not even knowing what she was doing. All the fear and pain and pent-up sound burst forth in her new- discovered Mindspeech. :AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!:  
  
Bloodmoon dropped the knife and clamped his hands to his head, screaming aloud. Silentrain kept screaming, just screaming. She didn't even need to pause for breath, for Mindspeech doesn't need such things. Bloodmoon and his bondbird crumpled to the floor.  
  
Silentrain scrambled to her feet. Blood trickled down her body. Mentally, she couldn't do anything except scream, constantly, incessantly. She backed away from the limp figures, then turned and ran. As she reached her room, she grabbed a tunic and threw it on.  
  
Pain. Fear. Blood. Bleeding.  
  
:AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!:  
  
Silentrain pulled herself out the window. The strain sent agony pouring through her upper body from the cut on her chest. Her tunic was already damp with blood. She slid out onto the branch outside.  
  
Run. Get away. Had to run, escape from HIM where HE couldn't follow.  
  
Silentrain ran down the tree-path, leaping from branch to branch. Her mind was still screaming. Then she realized that anyone could hear her. HE could hear her.  
  
Had to block it off. HE couldn't find her again. Not again. She wouldn't let him touch her again.  
  
Silentrain thought of her mind. Then she thought of a wall, a dome, building itself brick by brick around her mind. Blocking HIM out. Blocking everyone out.  
  
She kept running. The air was freezing and a slight breeze doubled the chill. Many of the branches were covered in ice. Tree to tree, she left her home behind, headed away from the Vale.  
  
As she prepared for a jump, she felt her foot slip. She just managed to grab onto a branch to keep from falling down. Pulling herself up, she tested her weight on the foot, and shrieked inside at the sharp pain that flared in her ankle.  
  
She used her good leg and arms to position herself in a fork, up against the trunk of the tree. Silentrain leaned back with a sigh. As she stopped moving, her adrenaline abandoned her. Suddenly exhausted, she fell asleep.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Silentrain awoke, not to sound, but to a sense of magic. It tingled at her skin, especially on her cheek, throat, and hand, where HE had touched her. She had a throbbing headache. Her ankle was also throbbing. The slash on her chest had stopped bleeding, but burned with cold. She felt snowflakes blowing on her arms and ice beneath her. She shivered in the night wind. The sweat and blood that had soaked her tunic had frozen completely.  
  
Two figures approached. One was the scout Nightstar, the other the mage Skyfire. Skyfire held a mage-light. Both periodically called out, "Silentrain!"  
  
Silentrain began to get up, but then a cynical inner voice spoke. *Yes, they're Tayledras, but so was Bloodmoon. Yes, you know them, but your mother knew Bloodmoon, and he killed her.* She shrank back against the tree trunk.  
  
The two of them passed beneath her tree. Skyfire stopped and turned to Nightstar.  
  
"I've had enough. I'm going back to my ekele. I don't understand WHY we've got half the Vale freezing their butts and their bondbirds searching for a useless stupid mute child who apparently doesn't want to be found!"  
  
The slap that responded wasn't enough to soothe Silentrain's soul. A flood of sorrow threatened to break down her carefully constructed wall. *So Bloodmoon isn't the only one. Everyone must think I'm useless and unfit and they just didn't want to offend my parents by straight-out saying so.* Tears ran down her cheeks and froze there.  
  
"Skyfire!" snapped Nightstar. "You have NO right to say that! Even if she IS a liability, she's still Tayledras. We owe it to her parents, at least, to find her."  
  
*My parents. Not me. They don't give a damn about me.*  
  
"Why?" sneered the mage. "So the Vale can be saddled with a mute ORPHAN? She's not Gifted, antisocial, and has shown no aptitude with ANYTHING. I can't think of a single soul in k'Rayna who would be willing to burden themselves with her. Besides, Bloodmoon WAS Tayledras. Does that mean we should have taken him in and forgiven him, instead of slitting his throat?"  
  
"That's not an accurate analogy!"  
  
"Isn't it?"  
  
The sorrow welled up until she couldn't contain it anymore. A brief flood of emotion burst through her newly opened Empath channels. She managed to contain it again, but not before the two people beneath her halted.  
  
Wings beat beside her. An eagle owl stared her in the face.  
  
"We've found her," said Nightstar. She looked up. "Come on down, Silentrain. It's all right. We're here. You're safe."  
  
Silentrain savagely pushed the owl off the branch. The surprised bird managed to swoop into a dive and not break anything. The girl thought of her wall again. Carefully, she worked a few of the mental bricks away. Shaping her thoughts, she threw them at the two people below.  
  
:Go away. You don't want me. You don't need me. Leave me alone.:  
  
They were silent for a few moments, then a voice responded in her head. :Silentrain, don't be silly. Of course we want you! Why else would we be looking for you?:  
  
:HE doesn't want me. Skyfire doesn't want me. None of them want me. I'm just a stupid, useless mute child. I shouldn't be alive.:  
  
Nightstar grabbed Skyfire by the collar. Silentrain didn't hear what they said, and really didn't care. All she wanted was for them to go away. The cold ate into her. She curled up and wished she would freeze soon. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt anymore.  
  
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  
  
Wingblade swallowed. :It took Nightstar nearly until dawn to get Silentrain down from the tree, and she had to send Skyfire and all the others who came at her call away first. The girl didn't enter the Vale again until summer, and never got near anyone with even a hint of active Mage-Gift.:  
  
:Silentrain never told anyone what had happened that day for four years, and then it was only to her bondbird, when he came to her. No human heard the story until she was sixteen - her lover, Sunsong. But, by then, she was no longer the young child Silentrain. She was a full scout who had no desire more potent than leaving everything of her childhood behind with her child's name.:  
  
Wingblade took a deep breath and finished. :Her name is now Wingblade k'Rayna.:  
  
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Cliffhanger! Now everything is explained. Please tell me how you liked it! Or disliked! I don't care! Review! 


	12. Accepted

Lazy lazy dragon has now gotten her tail into gear to finish up this fic!  
  
Sorry it's been so long but I've had finals and all that blah in addition to simply being unable to come up with a decent conclusion AND the additional distraction of fictionpress stories...I'm just making excuses. Yeah. Really really sorry. It's just this chapter and the final one. I might do a sequel story or might not. Thankees to all reviewers, and apologies once more!  
  
Finally got proper HTML formatting! Yay!  
  
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Blinking back tears, Wingblade looked up into five faces all frozen in near identical expressions of shock. She realized that, unintentionally, she had dragged them back into that memory, still fresh and painful after all these years. Her palms hurt. Looking down, she saw she had dug her nails into them so hard it left deep imprints in the flesh.  
  
A warm, furry muzzle rubbed against the side of her face. :It's all right, Chosen. Everything will be fine. It's okay.:  
  
It was Elspeth who broke the silence. "If that bastard was still alive, I'd go kill him myself, then resurrect him so Gwena could pound him into a bloody pulp." Gwena's emphatic agreement brought a smile to even Wingblade. Elspeth winked at Wingblade. "Good luck, girl. And thanks for trusting me." She vaulted onto Gwena's back, and the two of them rode off.  
  
Talia's hand clasped Wingblade's shoulder. "That was very brave, opening yourself up like that. I'm not sure I could have, after keeping a secret so long." She smiled, and Wingblade felt her extending Empathic comfort. "Just remember - you're not alone here. You don't need to be afraid of anything. The Heralds protect each other."  
  
Wingblade nodded. She felt as if a great weight had been on her back, a weight she hadn't even noticed, and then suddenly it was taken off, and she was free. They didn't reject me. Or pity me. Or think I was insane. Or anything. She got to her feet. :Thank you for listening. It helped. Really.:  
  
Kyiir chose that moment to swoop down and land on her shoulder. His fierce golden eyes glared out at the assembly, but his words to her were gentle. :Said so. Mind-hurt better now. Happiness now. No more nightmares.:  
  
Wingblade knew his words weren't real, but his absolute conviction filled her heart with hope. She nodded to the Heralds. :I'd like to be alone now. Please?:  
  
Talia nodded. "Of course."  
  
Kyiir took to the sky. Syrai nuzzled her ear once again before galloping away. The Heralds vanished like specters in the moonlight, leaving Wingblade, like she'd asked, alone. Breathing deeply, she turned to the deep, shadowy trees. Let the Valdemarians find home in stone buildings. To her, home would always be perched high in the trees. She walked through the shadows, noticing the patterns as the moonlight fell through the layers of leaves, needles, and branches. Trees are trees, and moonlight is moonlight, no matter where you are. She sighed. Sunsong, how I wish you were here. She leaned against one of the pine trees, resting for a moment.  
  
Then the sudden, strong presence of Mage-Gift told her she wasn't so alone. A male Adept stood nearby, behind her. Darkwind. His magic burned against her. Her vision blurred. No! Not again. She closed her eyes, fighting off her body's reflexive, ingrained reaction.  
  
:Wingblade.: Mindspeech? A kind gesture, but unfortunately it burned her tortured nerves even deeper. She bit her lip. :I wanted a chance to speak with you. I know, more than the others could, what being isolated from the Vale.from the clan.is like. The only difference is that my isolation was self-imposed. Talia's words were far inadequate. You dealt with this on your own - betrayal, isolation, rejection. You are truly amazing, Wingblade.: He evidently noticed she wasn't responding. Concern touched his mind-voice. :Wingblade? Is everything all right?: She heard footsteps behind her, growing closer. No, she thought. She wanted to warn him, but she couldn't move or even speak. The pain was too close.  
  
His hand touched her arm. Skin touched skin.  
  
:AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA:  
  
She dropped to the ground, eyes misting over, twitching and trembling, Mindscreaming incoherently and ceaselessly.  
  
Fire ice burning freezing choking hurting oh Goddess it hurt so much burning her skin so much pain throat wrist chest dying blackness bleeding freezing burning again and again it kept going on and on and on  
  
:AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA:  
  
The shrill shriek of a hawk. Pounding hooves. Voices. She couldn't hear what they said. It just kept hurting, that one touch, she hadn't been touched by a mage since then.  
  
Then -- pain, but a different pain. Someone else's pain. A cry in her head. A cry in her ears. A shrill falcon's cry.  
  
Kyiir. Oh, no.  
  
She leapt to her feet, her own pain driven away by that of her bondmate. Her head darted frantically around. Darkwind, eyes wide with fear, was gesturing at her, talking very quickly to the other Heralds. The Companions stood shock-still, clearly confused. A bird circled high above. Another fell from the sky.  
  
Wingblade leapt forward. She ran past the startled Heralds, eyes fixed on the falling figure. Please, please, let me not be too late. The crumpled figure plummeted. She ran. Kyiir fell into her arms. He blinked his eyes and looked feebly up at her. The talon marks of another bird raked across his back and side. One of his wings was broken. Uncaring of anything else, Wingblade pressed her hand against the gashes, trying to stop the bleeding. :What happened? Kyiir? Kyiir!:  
  
:I.hear. No need.shout.so loud.: His head drooped.  
  
Talia rushed up beside her. "Darkwind told us what happened. When he touched you, you screamed and started thrashing. Kyiir interpreted that as an attack, so he stooped at Darkwind. Vree saw that Darkwind was being attacked, so he dove at his bondmate's attacker before recognizing Kyiir."  
  
:Wonderful,: Wingblade sobbed. :Just great. We survive together for so long, and he gets killed by another bondbird!:  
  
:Hold on a minute. No one's dying here.: Wingblade looked up. Syrai stood in front of her, sapphire eyes narrowed. :Mount up, my girl. To the Healers we go.:  
  
Wingblade never remembered what happened between Syrai's words and nearly falling off her Companion's back in front of the Healers' Collegium. She stumbled to the door, Kyiir pressed against her chest, shouting something she hoped sounded like :Help!: A figure in green robes flung open the door. People were babbling all around her, but she didn't care. :It's okay,: she whispered to Kyiir. :It's okay. You'll be fine. We're safe now.: Someone pried the bondbird out of her hands. She couldn't resist. The room swam around her eyes, bright lights blurring together. With a sigh, she passed out.  
  
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Sorry for such a short chapter, but.OK, OK, I'll stop apologizing.  
  
REVIEW! Not just this one -- could SOMEONE go look at my fictionpress stuff? That's where all of my energy has been going. 


	13. Epilogue

This is the final chapter of "But I Can't Be a Herald!" Possibly, if enough people ask, I might write a sequel. I also might not. You never know. Anyway, on with the last chapter…

~*~*~*~*~*~

Several months later, during winter…

Wingblade leaned back in her seat with a sigh, not really listening to the Herald in the front of the classroom who was lecturing the class about the historical importance and influence of some old battle or another (she didn't remember which one, they all sounded the same to her). Her gaze traveled around the classroom, now recognizing all of the other Trainees. Across the classroom, Kilim (clearly also bored) caught her eye, rolled his eyes at the instructor, and then winked. She smiled in reply. Talia – what a wonderful person the Queen's Own was – had spent a good deal of the past months working with Wingblade, trying to overcome the Tayledras-Herald's deeply ingrained pain-fear reaction to Mage-Gift. With the Empath's help, Wingblade could sit in the same room with mages without going into hysterics, and could even hold short conversations with them. She still couldn't touch anyone with Mage-Gift, but Talia had high hopes for removing even that reaction. 

She stared out the open window. Her vision was almost completely glazed over when a grayish streak cut across the cloudless blue sky. She blinked, opening he eyes just in time to catch the golden streak that followed. Her brow furrowed, and she looked around. No one else had seen anything, apparently. A mind-voice touched hers. She glanced out the window again, and saw Kyiir shoot past just a few feet away from the classroom. A golden-feathered blur followed him. Wingblade caught her breath. _Golden feathers?_

She glanced around the classroom once more, weighing her options. _I don't _really_ need to be here…_With that single thought, she bolted out of her seat. "Wingblade!" snapped the Herald, but she ignored him. Taking two steps, she jumped out of the window. Fortunately, the window was large enough for her to fit through without breaking either glass or bones. Even more fortunately, the classroom was on the ground floor. 

She hit the ground in a spray of snow. The chill air didn't stop her for more than a moment; she raced at full speed across the icy covering. Ahead of her, Kyiir and the golden bird twisted in intricate loops. The fence of the Companion's Field loomed up before her. She vaulted it easily, continuing to run. 

A figure in white Tayledras winter clothing stood in the Companion's Field, leaning against one of the trees. His golden hair stood out against the expanse of whiteness. Hearing her footsteps, he started to turn around. She barreled into him, nearly knocking him over. _:Sunsong!:_ she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his shoulders. 

"Heyla! Wingblade! Wonderful to – " He abruptly switched to Mindspeech. _:--see you. Sorry. I got carried away, and I forgot.:_

:It's all right. I'm used to people speaking now.:

:That's wonderful, ashke_!:_

She smiled. _:I suppose it is.:_ Gently, she reached up and stroked his hair. Her fingers touched the beaded quill of a feather – a banded, gray-and-white feather. He must have felt her touch it, for he looked into her eyes and touched the golden feather she wore in her own hair.

"I never took it out," Sunsong said softly. She loved hearing his real voice; it was deep and mellow, musical in a uniquely Tayledras way.

__

:Neither did I. Nor would I have wished to.: She kissed him softly. _:I've missed you terribly.:_

"And I you."

They stood there for a moment, until something occurred to Wingblade. _:Wait. Isn't k'Rayna short on scouts? How could they afford to have you leave for the long trip here? It took _me_ a long time, and I rode Companion-back!:_

"Funny you should ask that. You see, about a month after you spoke to me via long-range Mindspeech, a group of scouts from k'Sheyna showed up on our doorstep. Apparently, there's an overcrowding in the k'Sheyna Vale, and they 'happened' to hear that the k'Rayna Vale was shorthanded." Sunsong couldn't keep from smiling. "Oh, doesn't Darkwind k'Sheyna live here in Haven at the Mages' Collegium? I'd _almost_ forgotten."

Wingblade threw back her head and laughed. _:Bless Darkwind, then.:_ She frowned a little. _:That's why you were _able_ to leave. Why _did_ you?:_

Sunsong shook his head. _:Why, to be with _you_, of course.:_ He kissed her lightly. "Besides, I wanted to give this to you in person." He reached underneath his jacket. "Close your eyes and hold out your hand."

Wingblade did, waiting in anticipation. Something leather slipped into her hand. It was thin (about the width of her palm) and, from its weight, she guessed that something was inside the leather. Cold metal brushed against the sides of her fingers. She opened her eyes – and gasped. Her hand clutched a white leather sheath for a hunting dagger. A rearing horse extended from the guard, forming the handle. Silver etchings and bright blue gemstone-eyes indicated that the image was Companion, not horse. At first, it seemed as if the Companion had wings sprouting from its back. When she looked closer, though, she saw a falcon on the hilt, also engraved with silver, its wings flaring behind it. _:Sunsong…it's beautiful!:_ With trembling fingers, she drew the blade from the sheath. The winter sun gleamed off the perfectly balanced weapon as she swung it through the air. She sheathed it, then threw her arms around her lover. _:Thank you!:_

"Did you think I'd forget your birthing-day?" Sunsong smiled at her. 

__

:What's all this fuss?: Wingblade turned around, still beaming, to see Syrai's prancing form march up to them, white on white. 

__

:Syrai, this is Sunsong.: She turned back around. _:Sunsong, this is Syrai, my Companion. I believe you've met before.:_

Sunsong bowed. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Syrai. Or re-make your acquaintance, whichever it is."

Syrai pranced over and sniffed his hair. _:I like him, Wingblade,:_ she confided. _:He's a good man. Good choice. Can't fault your choice with him.:_

Wingblade smiled and shook her head. _:She says she likes you,:_ she informed Sunsong.

"I'm glad," he said, rubbing his hand on the mare's mane.

Just then, two shadows swooped down. Kyiir perched on Wingblade's shoulder, while Sunsong's *name* fluttered down to his bondmate's shoulder. Both bondbirds somehow managed to look very pleased with themselves. Wingblade smiled. Standing there, one hand on Syrai's warm, furry shoulder and the other hand clutching Sunsong's, with her bondbird a comforting presence on her shoulder, she felt as if the world could be no more perfect. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My first completed story…

So, should I write the sequel? 


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